Clean Up
by SkullszEyes
Summary: She ran until she found herself cornered in the basement of the Baker Estate.


She escaped. It wasn't easy, not when her boyfriend held off the dad while the mother left with the son. She hoped _they_ wouldn't find out what happened. She kept quiet, maneuvering through the rooms, listening to the man taunt her about her boyfriend who laid dead in the hall. His neck bent and a large gash sliced into his shoulder and neck. She shuddered, knowing if the man found her, she would be next.

She had to get out somehow. The doors were mysteriously locked by these odd mechanisms, and the windows were completely boarded up. Taking a deep breath, she left the hall as quiet as she could until she was at the door. She spent twenty minutes looking throughout the dining hall and kitchen for a specific key, but nothing fit inside the door. Nothing that she could mimic without alerting the father of her whereabouts.

She tensed, breathing hard before placing the golden object into the placement. It fit. The thing was sitting in the garage by itself and she figured they forgot to hide it. The dad was a little focused on finding her than realizing he set the key in plain sight. She did try to get through the garage door, but it wouldn't open and she was trembling with paranoia that she headed back in the hall, grabbed a knife from the kitchen and made her way back to the strange door.

The mechanism turned with a loud grinding that set her heart racing. She pressed her hand on the door and pushed it open, and slipped through. She clamped her teeth down from chattering, the foyer was empty of the rest of the family. Except it was dirty as the other side she came from, it was also darker and colder.

She spotted the front door and raced toward her, only for her heart to sink when she saw three more mechanisms that were empty of their keys.

"No… no...no…" she pressed her fingers and pushed, a sickening feeling overwhelmed her. "Separate fucking keys." Tears burned her eyes and she couldn't stop the shaking, she was afraid that she might even collapse in front of the door.

"You won't find those as easily." The voice startled her, she twisted around and caught sight of the son sitting on a chair in the center of the room, his leg settled on the table and he was staring at her with a bored expression.

She breathed, moving away from the front door toward the staircase. He watched her intently, looking at the knife in her hand.

"You're not going to find anything up there," he said.

"Fuck you," she growled, flashes of her boyfriend came to mind and she had to force it away. She gripped the banister and began to take a step up the stairs, the knife pointed at the son who didn't move from where he sat.

The mother wasn't anywhere to be seen and she was afraid that she would run into her. The parents seemed more aggressive, while the children were tame.

She wouldn't consider them children since the son looked almost around her age. Yet he was a little more emaciated and sickly looking with a hood covering his head. She knew he would be dangerous and about half way up the stairs, he proved it by pushing himself off the chair and sprinting after her with his own knife in his hand.

She twisted around and ran up the remaining steps. She headed for the closest door that was slightly opened. There was a strange snake wreath on the front that she didn't bother examining as she shoved the door open and slammed it closed behind her.

"There's nothing in there," he said from the other side, "my mom isn't stupid to keep the locks to the front door in her own room."

She looked over her shoulder and noted the simpleness of the room, collected dust, some mold, the blankets were floral and the mirrors were smashed. There was another door to the room that was closed and she figured it was a walk in closet.

She reached for the chair with her foot and dragged it toward her. She brought the top end under the knob and hoped it would stay long enough until she found a way out.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she repeated under her breath. Squeezing her eyes, she wiped away the tears sliding down her face and started to look around. The windows were boarded up, nails stuck in several places, some were bent, there was even barbed wire clinging tight to the wood.

The only thing she held was the knife, her only defence against these crazed killers.

"You know," the son said from the other side of the door, "this wouldn't have happened if you didn't make a wrong turn."

She glared, her hand tightened around the handle. He wasn't trying to get in because he knew there wasn't a way out. Taunting her was just to pass the time. There was something else about the room, she could see it from underneath the bed.

 _Secret passage?_

She tried pushing against the bed, but it wouldn't budge. "How does this fucking thing open?"

She looked at the clock and noticed something strange. The hands weren't moving, she tried picking it up but it was stuck to the desk. She opened the face and nudged one of the hands. Something from the bed, metal grinded together, she furrowed her brows and turned the big hand until she heard something click into place. She did the same to the other and when she got the next one, the bed slid open, revealing a narrow staircase that led downwards.

Her heartbeat thumped steady in her chest, she looked back at the door and wondered why it was so quiet. Was he still there? She descended down the staircase and panicked when the bed slid closed. She reached up and tried pushing it back, but the mechanism to the trap door stayed firm into place.

"Fuck." She knew staying in that room would do nothing for her. She descended with the knife in her hand. Slow in wonder, there could have been many trap doors all over the place, maybe a possible way out.

A cool draft moved against her skin, making her shiver with goosebumps. There was something else on the air, a stench that was foul and rotten, it made her stomach lurch as she leaned against the wall. She covered her mouth with her free hand and descended the last few stairs, her eyes now watered with the implication of where she was.

 _I'm in the basement._

The sight of the dismembered cow legs hanging from the wall where they were placed together in a sort of circular symbol. She noted the sink filled with blood, old or new, it didn't matter. It was sick and she slid against the metal cabinets, the knife in her shaky hand as a sob ripped into her throat.

Her boyfriend was dead, these people were cannibals and monsters, and she was alone. By herself in the basement in front of some fucked up display.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," she whispered to herself, bringing her legs to her chest and placing the knife down to cover her face with her hands. The tears kept coming, but she tried keeping quiet in case they found her. "I don't want to die here. I don't want to die here…"

Her ears perked up at the sound of a door hinges screeching. She took a shuddered breath and slowly rose to her feet, back pressed against the cabinet with the knife in her hand. She swallowed, trembling, as the sounds of someone walking down the hall and...humming.

They stopped, taking one step closer to the door with the way their movements echoed on the other side. There was the sound of keys being pushed into the lock and the doorknob twisting with a low grind. The door opened.

"There you are."

A tear slid down the side of her face as she brought the knife up, pointing it at the son who closed the door behind him. Blanketing the darkness around his thin, angular form.

"S-Stay back," she warned, her grip tightened and another tear rolled down to the curve of her jaw. She was stuck in place, her body wouldn't move in fear of the man in front of her.

He brought his hands up, showing her he didn't have his knife with him. She couldn't trust that as he began to speak in a soft odd manner.

"I'm not going to hurt you.."

"Liar," she spat, shaking her head. "You and your fucking parents killed my boyfriend."

The corner of his lips twitched into a smile, "My dad killed him because he wouldn't eat my mom's food. She spent all morning working out the types of ingredients for you two. And your _boyfriend_ just had to go and insult her hard work. Where I was sitting, he had it coming."

She couldn't believe what was honestly coming out of his mouth. The words twisted to suit his own needs towards his parents, it was disgusting. "It was human entrails, you piece of shit."

He took a step closer, she moved back against the metal cabinet. She had nowhere to go. The only exit to the room was behind him.

"If you come any closer, I'll k-kill you," her voice strained, a promise she would hurt him if he did come too close.

"My parents don't know you're in here, they kind of forgot about you after I disposed of your boyfriend's body," he said, shrugging.

"What?" She didn't hide the disbelief in her voice at what he meant.

He took a step closer, watching the way she held the knife before looking back at her face. "My parents can't clean up after themselves, if you didn't already notice. The bodies that come in and out of this house is irritating on my part. So I put the bodies in the incinerator or bag them up."

"Stop! S-Stop coming closer," she told him when he took another step.

"My parents don't know you're still alive, but once my mom finds out you barricaded her door, she'll hunt you down. There's only one way out and I can help you."

"Why would you do that? You're just like them, you kill people."

"They'd kill me if they ever found out that I'm not like them," he said, his eyes taking on a glazed look. "I'm not particularly fond of _her_ concept of family like they are."

"You'll help me?" she asked, skeptical of his offer, yet her body was shaking with fear and desperation. She wanted to leave, to run and never look back to this horrible rotten place.

He nodded, a languid smile tugged at his lips.

"Lucas! Where the fuck are you, boy?" the father yelled, his voice echoed off the walls coming down the hall.

It startled both her and _Lucas_ who jolted into action as her hold wavered on the knife. He slammed her against the cabinet, pinning her body with his, one hand gripped her wrist that held the knife, while the other covered her mouth that elicited a loud whimper.

The father's voice called out again as Lucas slowly twisted her wrist and pulled the knife free from her hand.

"Ssshhh… I said I would get you out." Leaning his forehead against hers and smiled.

Her heart hammered in her chest, she tried pushing back, but he wouldn't budge. Her hope sank as a cry left her lips, muffled by his hand. The knife settled at her neck and all she could think of was that she was going to die, that she wasn't leaving this house. She and her boyfriend would be reported missing, these sick fucks would hang their missing pictures on the wall, laughing at her attempt at escape.

"I told you there was only one way out," Lucas said, quiet and soft before pressing the knife hard and slicing through the skin where it cut through her windpipe.

Blood clogged, pouring out as she tried breathing, her hands going to her neck, covered in blood but there was nothing she could do. She fell to her knees, tears mixing with her blood. She could barely see him through the creeping darkness in her eyes as she collapsed, her body convulsing before going limp.

Lucas held the knife, wrinkling his nose, he smiled and walked back toward the door and opened it.

"I found her."

* * *

 **Notes:** _I wanted to write this Fanfiction because I read one where the character was not mutilated at all and was smart not to get hurt. I found it was kind of weird, so I wanted to write this with a character who has a small bit of hope but loses it._  
 _There was also something in the game that Lucas said he had to clean up all the assholes that his parents brought to the house._  
 _I also didn't want to deviate from Lucas who is essentially a killer._  
 _I love Fanfiction, you can write whatever the fuck you want. :D_

 ** _Reviews are appreciated. No flames or bashing please._**


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